


Come As You Are

by SashaDistan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Cooking, Date Night, Dirty Talk, Dom Shiro (Voltron), Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Romantic Fluff, Switching, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 09:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22713625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan
Summary: “You’re cooking.” He said, like he’d only just noticed.“Yes.”“Nothing is on fire.” Shiro commented dryly.“Ouch. Ye of little faith.”“Mmmm…. Smells good though.”Keith can't cook. But that's not going to matter, because Shiro isn't actually going to let him finish.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 161
Collections: Sheithlentines 2020





	Come As You Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roromir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roromir/gifts).



> Assignment for Sheithlentines 2020,
> 
> Ali, this was such a great wishlist, I'm sorry I could only get about half of it in but I really hope you like your gift!
> 
> Thank you to the incredible [Lole](https://twitter.com/@leandralena) for being an awesome beta reader.

Keith tugged the end of his hair firmly into a braid, and stood leaning one hip against the kitchen counter, re-reading the instructions he’d wheedled out of Hunk for the fourth time since exiting the shower. He figured he’d finish assembling the dinner, get the dish on the grill to go all golden and crispy, and then go get changed. He could see his best red-lined black dress shirt and pants laid out on the bed through the half open doorway, and grinned to himself as he took up the whisk to create the sauce: it was their first anniversary since finishing the remodel of the cabin – now a place for two fully grown men and a large space wolf rather than a lanky teenager who oft fell asleep in his clothes – and Keith was glad of their decision to stay in. He was also, surprisingly, pleased that Shiro had been called to attend some all-hands-on-deck non-emergency meeting back at the Garrison, because how Keith would have got him to willingly leave the house for the two hours it had so far taken him to set everything up he didn’t know.

The table was set, with candles arranged there and on the coffee table in the now wolf-fluff-free living room. Space wolf had been walked, tussled with, fed, watered, and was very happily tucked up in his bed with all four paws in the air looking about as undignified as it was possible to be. Keith had spent a full half hour in the shower scrubbing what appeared to be ingrained motor oil from his knuckles, before he had begun to follow Hunk’s incredibly thorough step by step instructions. Instructions Keith, who had not yet been able to fry an egg without threat of uncontrolled flames, could use to create Shiro’s very favourite food in the entire universe without resorting to either packet mixes or a food delivery service.

_When the flour and butter are fully combined, add one third of the milk –_ OK, that was slightly more than a third, but Keith doubted it mattered too much _– and stir with a whisk vigorously._ Keith frowned into the saucepan, but kept whisking. _Add the next third of the milk and wait for the sauce to thicken –_ Keith frowned in concentration. Hunk had assured him school children learnt to make this sauce, it couldn’t be that hard, but Keith had flown across the universe in a mechanical fighting lion and still couldn’t be trusted not to burn toast. Still, he couldn’t help but remember their last anniversary, sneaking away from the Atlas in his sleek Blades fighter craft, and ending up sharing cheeseburgers and fries at the space mall, both complaining with equal fervour about who provided the worst rations – the Garrison or the Blades. They had come to the slightly unnerving realisation that even food goo had been preferable to the weirdly tasteless ration pouches the Garrison was currently favouring in their rapid expansion of newly discovered space. All in all, it was a blessing to have shore leave, work on his hoverbike, go for long rides across the desert, and hang out on the back porch with his husband and their space wolf.

The wolf’s semi-conscious grunt of welcome and the accompanying smack of his tail against the floor were the prelude to Shiro sweeping in through the front door. Keith greeted him without turning, lips moving as he traced the next line of instruction.

_Stir in one third of the cheese, one teaspoon of English mustard, the nutmeg (in the little packet Keith!), and the bacon pieces (the same ones you fried off earlier and you swore you wouldn’t feed to the wolf!) until everything is combined._

“Candles?”

“Pretend it’s a surprise. You’re early.”

“We cut the last part of the meeting short. They weren’t making any progress, and I wanted to come home.” Strong arms wrapped around his ribs, white and silver prosthetic fingers sliding against the hoodie Keith had stolen from the floor on Shiro’s side of the bed. “What are you wearing?”

Keith swallowed audibly and felt the pleased, possessive rumble in Shiro’s throat at the motion. The hoodie had been thrown on over his specially selected anniversary-at-home-with-my-gorgeous-husband underwear, the edge of the red mesh boxers were barely visible under the hem of the borrowed hoodie. Shiro nuzzled into his hair, and though Keith was still stirring the white cheesy sauce, he leant back into the secure warmth of Shiro’s broad chest as his husband began to place wet, open kisses against the side of his neck.

“I was going to change before you got back,” he murmured, half turning his face, seeking out Shiro’s lips, both hands still occupied by cooking.

Shiro’s hand skimmed down his side, palming his hip through the fabric of his hoodie before brazenly heading further south to smooth across the slick material of his underwear.

“I dunno.” There was a pleased, dark tone in Shiro’s voice which made a shiver crawl up Keith’s spine, hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “I kind of like it.” Shiro cupped him appreciatively, feeling out the contours of him through the thin fabric. “You’re cooking.” He said, like he’d only just noticed.

“Yes.”

“Nothing is on fire.” Shiro commented dryly.

“Ouch. Ye of little faith.”

“Mmmm…. Smells good though.” Shiro moved his hands only to explore Keith’s arse with a more deliberate gesture, thick fingers pressing the delicate mesh of his underwear into the cleft between his cheeks.

Keith reached for the ceramic dish into which he had been instructed to pour the mixture, then paused as his eyes tracked the words _Add the damn pasta first!_ and instead took the handles of the large pot in which the cooked pasta shapes were steaming softly. The movement shifted his balance, and Shiro took the opportunity to skim his fingers up under Keith’s hoodie and rub at one nipple even as he pinched the other.

“Ahh! Shiro!”

“Mmmm?” No one had ever sounded more innocent, of that Keith was certain.

“Still cooking.” He pointed out.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

Keith was going to say something about the fact that once the dish was under the grill, he would have both hands and all his attention to give to his husband. He was going to make a point about getting dressed for their date night in. He was going to show Shiro how much he loved him by making his favourite food in the whole world without breaking, burning, or poisoning anything. He really was going to; but the moment he had both hands occupied once more, Shiro hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and left Keith much less dressed than he had been a moment previously.

“Mmmm….”

“What are-?”

“It was a very dull meeting.” Shiro wrapped the slightly cool fingers of his prosthetic around Keith’s hip, and drew him back until they were flush together. He nosed again into the curls of Keith’s hair, breath raising goose bumps on his nape. “And you have the most perfect fucking arse. You’re such a tease baby, and you were gonna make me wait too, weren’t you?”

“I- um...”

“Sexy new underwear, and you were going to hide it from me… tsk tsk.” Shiro kneaded his arse with one hand, using the other to pull the over-large hoodie askew to reveal the pale skin of Keith’s shoulder. Teeth grazed across him in between the lightest of kisses. “I have wanted nothing more for the last hour than to cuddle up on the sofa and touch you and talk to you, but I see now that might have to change.”

Keith was absolutely going to say something, or do something, or turn around and kiss his husband until he saw stars, but Shiro dragged the pad of his thumb dryly over the pucker of his hole and Keith felt the proprietary grin which was pressed against his scalp.

“Oh _baby_.” It was an octave lower than his normal speaking voice, and Keith shuddered. “Good shower was it?” His thumb returned, circling, pressing just so and not enough. “You had plans other than _just_ cooking, didn’t you?”

The spatula Keith had been using hit the counter top with a splat as Keith found he suddenly needed both hands to support himself.

Shiro wrapped his fingers around Keith’s hard on, keeping them deliberately loose, and gave him a single slow stroke. Keith bit his lip to hold in his whimper of frustration and tried to buck up into Shiro’s hand; anything to get more delicious friction.

“Uh-uh.” Shiro’s breath against the back of his neck made him shudder. “I thought you needed to concentrate on cooking?”

“Fuck-” Keith really wasn’t sure if he could form any other words. _“Shiro.”_

“Something you want baby?”

You. More. Anything. Everything.

The hand around his hip pressed hard enough to bruise, keeping him perfectly still as Shiro completed another too-loose, too-gentle stroke of his cock. Keith hung his head and groaned. He was supposed to be cooking, the grill was hot, the food was nearly completed but there was no way Keith was going to be able to _Sprinkle the cheeses evenly across the surface and place under the grill (use oven gloves) for fifteen minutes._ He couldn’t let go of the counter top, and he didn’t know where the oven gloves were, and he was going to lose control of his knees pretty soon if Shiro didn’t quit teasing him. He glared at his cooking instructions, like it was their fault.

“I have to-”

Shiro altered his grip, slightly cool prosthetic fingers skimming once more down the cleft of his arse to push meaningfully against his entrance before retreating. Keith whimpered: he wasn’t proud of the noise, but he was fully past caring now.

“I- unnngghhh. Food. Ahh.” Words had become too much effort. Keith’s shoulders shook, his forehead nearly resting on the counter, and moaned between gritted teeth as Shiro teased over his hole again. Shiro chuckled darkly, and Keith could well imagine his smirk.

“Got you non-verbal and quivering already? Must be my lucky day.”

Keith really hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those days where he was made to use his words, because he wasn’t sure he could, and already he could feel the sharp prick of fangs against his tongue as he began to lose control of himself to his libido.

“You’re so tense baby.” Shiro kissed the back of his neck softly, lips pressing at the bulky fabric over his shoulders. Keith wanted to snark and blame the sudden stiffness of his shoulders solely on his husband, but his voice had deserted him. Shiro moved his hands, slotting one broad thigh between Keith’s legs, and pulled him back against his chest with a pleased rumble. “Seems a shame to waste all your hard work, but you’re not going to be able to finish like this, are you?”

Keith knew he wasn’t expected to reply, but responded to the twist of Shiro’s head, and angled his jaw for the kiss. Shiro was warm and insistent against him, opening his mouth quickly and with a devastating thoroughness even as his hands tugged up the front of the hoodie to roam across Keith’s chest. Keith whined into his husband’s mouth, and felt Shiro’s pleased smile against his lips. A hand wrapped back around his cock, firmly this time, and Keith made a sound not totally unlike a purr as Shiro began to stroke him in quick, efficient movements.

“What’s gotten you so pent up, hmmm? I’ve not been gone that long.”

Keith would have rolled his eyes, but he was having trouble keeping them open. Shiro knew exactly how he liked to be touched, how to twist his wrist just so and how to squeeze on the upstroke in a way that made Keith’s toes curl every time, and now he used that knowledge to bring him right up to the edge of his orgasm, and tip him hard over the edge.

“Ngghhh FUCK.” Keith thumped the counter violently enough to make the utensils rattle in their holder as he snarled through his orgasm. He couldn’t remember losing control that fast in years. He panted, pinned in place with Shiro’s prosthetic across his chest, and winced softly as his husband continued to stroke him with slow, soft fingers, spreading cum over his still half hard cock.

“Feel better now baby?”

“I- You-…bastard.”

“Hey, I’m being nice.” Shiro purred in his ear, releasing him so that Keith once again desired the support of the counter top. “Finish that.”

“Huh?”

“Hunk’ll be sad if you don’t follow the recipe. I’d recognise that handwriting anywhere.” Shiro made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “He’s the only one of you who can fill out paperwork worth a damn.”

Keith blinked at the instructions still staring at him accusingly across the pile of grated cheeses, then cleared his throat.

“Are you gonna move your hand?”

“Nope.” Shiro slipped his slicked-up palm between Keith’s cheeks and Keith bit his lip when the first thick finger breached him. “You’d better finish quick, or I might not fuck you.”

“You wouldn’t...”

Shiro’s free hand came up to cup his jaw and Keith shivered all over with the timbre of Shiro’s voice against his ear.

“Dare to test that theory, boy?” he murmured, withdrawing a fraction. It was enough to make Keith try to follow him automatically. “Finish.”

Keith wasn’t sure how he managed to spread the cheese on the dish, get it under the grill, and set the timer without his knees giving way, but he did. He wanted nothing more than to turn around, knock Shiro to the floor, and pin him down by his hips, but he could tell by Shiro’s soft petting, that his husband had already formulated a plan for the immediate future, and Keith had never yet been disappointed in the outcome of one of Shiro’s plans.

He turned as the kicked the oven door closed to find Shiro smiling at him, eyes dark and soft, and clearly very pleased with the view. He hauled Keith’s borrowed hoodie off over his head and Keith stepped out of his fallen underwear and deep into the space between Shiro’s feet. Keith seized his jaw and leant up for a proper kiss. Shiro’s tongue slid over his as their mouths slotted together, and Keith groaned against him as he allowed himself to be effectively plundered. When Shiro drew back, his grin was even wider.

“I think there’s plenty more left in you baby. Let’s put that legendary Galra stamina to the test, shall we?”

Fuck, but Shiro used that voice: the same one he used when he directed meetings and told alien delegates in no uncertain terms that they were all going to get along if he, Takashi Shirogane the Galaxy Garrison Admiral and Captain of the Atlas, had to make them himself. He was determined.

And Keith had never met a challenge anything other than head on.

Shiro tugged him away from the kitchen and over to the living area and Keith went willingly. They skirted the candles burning low on the coffee table and Shiro settled back against the couch, still fully dressed in his uniform, pants open and inviting. He should have looked exposed with no skin showing other than the heavy length of his cock, stark and obvious in contrast to the dark fabric of his trousers, but instead he still looked every inch the Defender of the Universe, and Keith licked his lips as his pulse thundered in his ears. Shiro encouraged him into position until Keith knelt either side of Shiro’s spread thighs. He was about to sink gratefully into his husband’s lap when Shiro wrapped a strong arm behind his arse, and Keith yelped when the warmth of Shiro’s face was pressed suddenly against his crotch.

“Mmmm… there’s my boy.” Shiro spoke directly against his skin, mouthing the words against his tumescent member before pressing a kiss against the base of Keith’s treasure trail. “Well, what are you waiting for baby?”

Keith paused, staring, unable to tear his focus from the sight of Shiro looking up at him, silver hair falling in his face, lips saliva slick and moving tortuously slowly along the length of his shaft. Only when Shiro made a soft, slightly confused noise in his throat did Keith remember what he was supposed to be doing. He jolted from his post-orgasmic daze and wrapped his fist in Shiro’s pale floof, drawing a pleased groan from his husband, and thrust past Shiro’s waiting lips with an exhaled ghost of his name.

Shiro sucked him hard, cheeks hollowing, without breaking eye contact as Keith pulled back slowly before snapping his hips forward once more. The slide was already wet and fantastic, and Shiro pressed up against his underside with his tongue. The hint of blunt teeth grazing his skin made Keith shiver with pleasure. He crowded close, forcing Shiro’s shoulders and head back against the couch cushions, and kept him there with a sharp tug of his hair. He pulled back, and grinned proudly when Shiro made an aborted motion to follow him, lips slack and shining.

“You gonna tease me now?” Somehow, Shiro still managed to sound confident and cocky, even with the tip of Keith’s cock resting against the corner of his mouth. “Or are you worried you aren’t gonna last?”

Keith growled, fingers tightening in Shiro’s hair, and he felt the tips of his claws digging into the heel of his palm. Shiro made a wordless noise of total pride and Keith shut him up by forcing his cock down his throat.

Shiro had spent a long time training away his gag reflex, a task Keith had happily assisted with. Because where was the hardship in lying prone across the nearest flat surface whilst the hottest man in the universe knelt between your legs and spent hours sucking your cock? Keith had thought the training was it’s own reward, but only until the first time Shiro had invited him to fuck his mouth. Keith had gotten to reap the benefits of Shiro’s newly suppressed gag reflex in spine tingling detail. It was now right at the top of Keith’s very favourite things to do, and Shiro knew that.

Keith snapped his hips fast, pushing each thrust deep enough to feel Shiro’s throat constricting automatically around him, no matter how relaxed Shiro forced his mouth to be. Keith braced his hand against the wall, panting as he gazed down at his husband, nose pushed into his abdomen, eyes watering, and still demanding _more_.

“Oh fuck!”

He thumped the wall, claws scrabbling against the freshly painted plasterboard, and snarled out a gasp as Shiro’s hands wrapped around his arse, encouraging him to push harder and deeper. He managed another three full thrusts, then drove deep into Shiro’s mouth as his second orgasm pulled his self-control out through his spine, the top of his head hitting the wall with a thud. Shiro swallowed, of course he did, and the aftershocks of that made Keith pant, his lungs burning. He winced as he unwound his fingers from Shiro’s hair, a few white strands coming loose in his hand, but his husband managed to look proud of even that, as Keith leant back from him, concentrating on breathing and trying to remember how to focus his vision.

“You’d better not be tired yet baby.” Shiro’s voice was low and raspy, throat thoroughly ravaged by Keith’s cock, but he still sounded smug. The pleased sound he made when Keith bent to kiss him made Keith shiver happily. He’d made Shiro chair a meeting with a voice like that once; a time when not even discussions of intergalactic trade deals had made him bored.

“ _Shiro_...” Keith whined as Shiro brought his cool metal and polymer hand up to stroke over his too sensitive cock. He shuddered all over, but Shiro just smiled and tugged Keith down into his lap.

Keith twisted under his hands, and then Shiro’s hand fisted in the hair at the back of his head, tilted his jaw up and bit a kiss at the base of his throat. Keith fumbled his grip on Shiro’s shoulders, claws snagging at the fabric of his uniform jacket, trying not to growl. Shiro dragged the pad of his thumb over the mark he’d left, and pressed hard enough to make Keith hiss between his fangs.

“C’mere baby. We’re a long way from done.”

Keith wanted to say something sharp and snarky, but Shiro held his hips tight and he felt the hot, rigid length of his husband’s cock nestling into the cleft of his arse and decided better of it. The fact he’d apparently lost the ability to form all words along with his last orgasm didn’t help. Keith whimpered as he was lifted away from Shiro’s lap, then snarled as he was brought down again. Shiro’s cockhead bumped against his entrance then slid away, the angle imperfect. Keith made an unhappy noise in the back of his throat.

“Now, now. Patience baby.”

Keith had absolutely no interest in being patient, not any longer. His tongue felt heavy and unusable in his mouth and he could feel his fangs now distorting the shape of his lip. It was very hard to acknowledge anything in his peripheral vision, and Shiro seemed to know he was the only thing in focus for Keith.

Shiro ran his thumb across Keith’s lower lip with a broad smile. Keith chased it with his tongue.

“Look at you. So pretty, baby. Blushing all purple with how much you want me.”

Keith couldn't bite back the whimper which escaped his throat as Shiro dragged the length of his cock against him again. He squirmed in his husband’s lap, well past the point of caring how desperate it made him look, and Shiro practically purred.

“That’s it. You want it?”

“Nnngh.”

“You want me to fuck you?” Shiro’s words were crisp and measured, as though he wasn’t rolling his hips up against Keith’s naked arse. “You want my cock in you baby? See how deep I can get?”

“Shi-” But the only word Keith could manage was cut short when Shiro spread him open, lined himself up, and pushed in without preamble. Self-preparation in the shower over an hour previously was nothing compared to the girth of Shiro’s cock, and Keith made a breathless punched out noise of shock and pleasure.

Shiro stroked him, fingers teasing along his taint, cupping his balls, pushing the sensitive inner skin of his thighs to coax him lower and lower. The involuntary noise Keith made as his weight finally settled deep in Shiro’s lap made the bigger man beam with pride.

“Oh baby. Look at you. Your arse is so hungry for my cock. You did that so well.” Thumb and forefinger held the point of Keith’s chin. “Look at me.”

Keith panted, even the movement of breathing was suddenly too much, but not moving was not enough. His thighs quivered, but Shiro was holding him firm, prosthetic hand spanning the entirely of one leg, and he couldn’t take action. Keith blinked, and wished Shiro was close enough to kiss. Shiro rocked his hips and Keith gasped breathlessly, barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone any actual words.

“Oh good boy. You got your eyes lit up you know.” Shiro sounded so goddamn proud that Keith forgot to be embarrassed about the fact he couldn’t keep his feral Galra nature under control, and shuddered when Shiro ghosted a hand over his face, touching his lips, fangs, cheeks, the corner of his eye, the tip of one ear which had gone pointed, poking out from his hair. Then he ground up into Keith once more, and Keith practically choked when Shiro placed a hand over his stomach, pressing into his abs. “ _Fuck_. You feel that? I can _see_ my cock inside you baby. God that’s beautiful.”

Keith clutched at his shoulders, not caring what state his claws left Shiro’s uniform in as his husband spanned his waist with both hands and began to fuck him in earnest. Keith couldn’t even gasp, because he could feel Shiro moving in him all the way up to his throat, his lungs tight and burning, every muscle on fire, his heart hammering a matching pattern to Shiro’s thrusting hips. Shiro practically glowed with possessive pride, his smile beaming as he made sure Keith knew – and by extension, everyone else knew – that Keith was ruined for anyone but him.

“Ugghnn- baby. Oh god. You’re so tight and so fucking fantastic. My good boy. You like it, don’t you? Like feeling me all the way up here.” Shiro pressed his palm against Keith’s belly, and Keith felt the echo of the motion through layers of skin and muscle where Shiro’s hand was pressing against the head of his own cock. “Gonna come so deep inside you baby. You’re all mine.”

Yes. Dear god in heaven, it felt so good and he wanted so badly to feel Shiro come inside him. Please Shiro, please come. But what came out of Keith’s parched mouth was just;

“Hnnn.”

Keith couldn’t breathe when Shiro’s hips slammed into him, his husband holding him so firmly in his lap that Keith knew he’d have bruises for days. Shiro groaned a litany of Keith’s name as he came. There was no recovery, and Shiro yanked Keith down by his hair, panting through the last of his orgasm with artless kisses which made Keith whine with longing. He whimpered when Shiro pulled him off, groaned at the feeling of emptiness, and shuddered as he was placed back in his husband’s lap, straddling one of Shiro’s beefy thighs. He sagged against the broad chest, his spine refused to continue to support him, and Shiro’s arms looped around his back had never been more welcome.

“You did so well baby. So good.” Shiro tilted his chin up again, peppering his face with tiny kisses. “But I bet you could give me one more, couldn’t you sweetheart?”

“Nnghhh.”

“Yeah you can. Move for me baby.”

Keith’s forehead hit Shiro’s shoulder with a thud, and Shiro produced a pleased chuckle. He turned his head just enough for his words to drag over Keith’s ear as he spoke.

“I know you want to. You’re being so good baby.” He brought his knee up slightly, tipping Keith firmly into the groove between hip and abdomen, pressing his thigh up against Keith’s taint. “C’mon beautiful, rock for me. Show me how much you like being in my lap.”

Keith wanted to protest: he was hot and prickly all over, he was exhausted and sweaty, his thighs trembled as they fought to support even half his weight, he could barely see and couldn’t speak… and yet Shiro wanted more, and Keith had proved over and over again that he couldn’t say ‘no’ to his husband’s desires. Not now, not ever. He whimpered helplessly and began to rut up against the deep ridges of Shiro’s gym-perfect abs. He panted against Shiro’s skin, lips and fang tips pressed without intent to his shoulder, tasting his sweat as he dragged his near-painful erection across his husband. Strong fingers stroked gently through his hair, massaging his scalp, and Keith felt himself start to come undone with the motion.

“Good boy.” The words were wet and warm against the shell of his ear. “Such a good boy for me. Gonna make you come all over yourself. Good boy. Keep going, there’s a good boy. Well done baby. Feel that?” Keith whined as Shiro’s fingers slid across his tail bone and down to where he rutted on Shiro’s broad thigh, coming away with a damp, tacky noise. “Feel my cum leaking out of you? Pushing yourself against me, so dirty and full already… you want more, don’t you?”

Keith made a breathless noise, choking on nothing, only vaguely aware of anything other than the sensation of Shiro’s body against his own.

“Good boy. So over stimulated. You wanna come for me baby? There’s my good boy.”

Keith arched his spine under pressure from his husband’s prosthetic hand in the small of his back. He pressed himself to Shiro’s skin, and the next helpless slide of texture against his tender cock was enough to push him over the edge once again. Keith whined, writhed, hissed with the sensation, then slumped as his orgasm knocked him away from all his senses, left him in a haze of white and pleasure which seemed as though it would last forever.

Vaguely, eventually, he became aware of strong, soft hands on him. There was movement, then the sensation of being horizontal and warm, safe with Shiro stroking him reverentially. Keith groaned.

“Hey there baby.”

“Mmmm….” Keith lifted a hand and motioned in a wordless demand for his needs to be met, even though he wasn’t actually sure what they were precisely.

“Here. Open.”

A straw. Water. Thank fuck. Keith grunted a smile. Everything else seemed like a lot of work.

“You okay?”

Keith opened one eye to find Shiro smiling at him gently, upside down, hair hanging between them. Keith tangled his fingers clumsily into the silver bangs and Shiro dropped down willing to kiss him. Shiro’s tongue did not swipe across fangs, and Keith was – momentarily – saddened. Then his sense of smell came back online, and he groaned aloud.

“Fuck.”

“Baby?” Instantly, concern furrowed Shiro’s brow. Keith smiled, found his husband’s hand and squeezed his fingers in reassurance. He turned his face to glare at the kitchen.

“The food is ruined.”

Shiro chuckled gentle.

“We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Keith rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t that what you said last time? Please tell me we can have takeout?”

“Even better.” Shiro bent to kiss him again, and Keith responded happily, nipping at Shiro’s lower lip. “Hunk sent me home from the meeting with dinner. I think he had this feeling we were going to fail at his recipe. Again.”

“Huh.” Keith grinned. They had failed to follow through with the recipe every night for a week, though this was definitely the furthest he’d gotten. The dish was actually under the grill, though it was probably now no more than textured carbon. He looked up at his husband. “Good. You deal with it.”

Shiro arched an eyebrow at him and stood, pausing as he was about to brush down his ruined uniform pants. He thought better of it and stepped out of them instead. Keith felt a vague sense of satisfaction to see his husband finally removing some clothes.

“You want me to feed you?”

“Yes.” Keith demanded. “Take responsibility for your naked husband, Admiral. God… I don’t actually think I can move.”

Shiro paused, smiling down at him, his expression incredibly soft and obviously moony. Keith would have ribbed him about it, but he was too exhausted. Instead he gave Shiro his best lazy smirk, and if anything, Shiro’s expression only became more adoring.

“I’ll go get a towel. Stay there.”

“Not a problem.”

Keith let his head roll back, gazing at the ceiling without seeing it. Shiro would be back at some point and clean him, and then would probably actually insist on feeding him even though Keith could already feel his limbs tingling with sensation as he recovered from his energy slump. Keith knew he would let him, because he couldn’t deny Shiro anything which made him smile like Keith had personally hung the stars for him.

Extended shore leave was great, and Keith wondered if they could keep on having their romantic anniversary date do-over for yet another week.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come chat with us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SashaDistan)
> 
> This author responds to comments.


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